


The 5 Stages of Grief Are: People

by Batteryafter



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Accident, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cancer, Dark, Death, Depression, Drugs, Eating Disorder, Five Stages of Grief, Other, Self Harm, Short Stories, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batteryafter/pseuds/Batteryafter
Summary: We all live our lives. Those lives end. Some experience grief in different way. Some cry, some accept. Everyone has their own story. Here are the stories of 5 young boys whose lives were taken far too early. 5 boys that face death in 5 very different ways.
Kudos: 4





	1. Depression

"Yes, mom–" Jae groans as he sits on his bed, "–I'm about to eat dinner. I love you, too." 

He hangs up and looks around the small studio apartment. The walls are still lined with boxes, despite him being here for a week. His family worried about him moving to another country but he needed the change. He needed to be alone. It will make it easier.

As much as he promised his mother he is going to eat, he knows he isn't. The money his family saved for him to fill his kitchen will mainly be used on his bills. His cupboards aren't exactly empty, however. There are various coffees and flavor packets for water. His fridge has some vegetables and fruits. On his counter, lays puffed rice cakes. 

The basics to keep himself from binging. 

He’s been struggling with his eating disorder for 4 years. When he was back in California, he dropped down to 115lbs and was forced into inpatient. He was in the hospital for 3 months. In recovery he gained 40lbs, which drove him into a horrible depression. Once he started his plans to move away, he secretly started restricting and fasting as much as possible. 

A sigh escapes his lips as he grabs a bottle of water and pours in the packet of energy fruit punch powder. Thankfully all the moving made his hunger pangs not as painful so he won't want to ruin his fast. 

He scrolls on his phone to keep his mind busy before calling it an early night. Tomorrow he can unpack everything and maybe take a walk if he has the energy. 

Jae's muscles ache as he wakes up at what he assumes is the next morning. He blindly grabs his phone to check the time. 

_Only 3 hours of sleep again?_

He sits up and grabs his head as it pounds. The headaches aren't anything new...he just didn't drink enough water yesterday is all. A nice hot shower and some coffee should help. He grabs his towel from the back of his chair and walks to the bathroom. 

The water steams the room. Jae tugs his clothes off and stares down at his body. His hand rests on his flat stomach, pinching at the loose skin. He moves down to his hip, itching the cuts across it. He steps into the shower and immediately wishes he had brought his blade with him. Though, since he’s been living here, he has only cut once. 

After the shower, he sits down at his computer desk, pressing his spacebar to wake up the monitor. The brightness burns his eyes and he automatically reaches for the key to dim the display. He figures he could pass the time with games until the rest of the country wakes up. 

He slowly watches his room fill with light as the sun comes up. His mind blanks and he watches his character die on screen but doesn't react. Just stares at the display prompting him to restart. He blindly grabs the box cutter blade hidden under his keyboard. 

His focus is jarred by a loud knock on the front door. He attempts to calm his heartbeat, wondering who the hell would be out there. 

"Uh–hello?" Jae blinks, staring at the young boy standing awkwardly in front of him. 

"Hi, I live next door." The boy lowers his head to hide the tube shoved down his nose. He sniffles and shakily hands Jae a piece of paper. "My family is asking for donations to pay for my funeral. If–uh if you're able to help, it'd be greatly appreciated. 

Jae looks at the paper and twitches. "That seems a bit morbid." 

The boy snorts, a smirk growing across his lips. "Maybe but I'm okay with it. Not much I can do about it now." 

"Oh. Okay. I'll see what I can do." He smiles, expecting the boy to walk away. But he doesn't. His eyes focus on the pale lines on Jae's wrists. 

"If you ever need to talk, just knock on my door." 

Jae's stomach twinges and he nods. "Same to you." 

The boy walks away, disappearing into his own apartment before Jae closes the door. Jae reads the flyer, his heart aching slightly. How could someone be so calm about their funeral? Or even their own mortality? 

_The same way you think about your suicide, Jae.._

He walks to his computer, sighing before turning the monitor off. For the first time being here, he changes into clean clothes. He grabs his earbuds and phone, blasting his music loud enough to deafen any noise from the outside. 

The wind pushes Jae back as he steps out of the building. He pulls his hood over his head and walks down the sidewalk. Since he arrived here, he has looked for the best places to–clear his mind.

Across from the town centre there is a bridge overlooking the river. There's always people sitting in the grass, eating lunch or reading books. None of them even give a glance to the boy leaning over the edge everyday, staring longingly at the water. 

Jae walks up to his favorite spot, next to the crisis hotline payphones, and hops onto the railing. He always found the phones funny. The day he finally jumps, he sure isn't going to be stopped by a phone call to a stranger. 

Everyday at the same time, he sees the same man walking home from work. They always have the same death glare, the same uniform, but different–more bruises on their face. They always give a pleading look when passing by Jae, either for Jae to stop him or for Jae to not jump. He always wonders if he should stop him and ask if he's okay. But maybe it's for the best not to interfere…

Yesterday, the boy slipped a piece of paper with his number on it into Jae's palm. He hasn't texted him. He isn't sure if he should. If it'll get the boy in trouble. 

After a few hours, Jae is finally approached by an officer, asking him to get down. He swings his feet over and slides down to the sidewalk. 

"Have a good night, sir." Jae nods to the man before making his way back home. 

He trudges into his apartment, his body ready to collapse from malnutrition. A rush goes to his head as he reaches for a stalk of celery in the fridge. As he chews, he walks into the bathroom. 

His reflection shows all his imperfections. The dark circles under his eyes, his sunken–fat cheeks, his sharp–ugly collarbone peeking from the top of his shirt. 

He sighs, staring down at the celery stalk, playing with the half chewed bits in his mouth. Nausea creeps up his throat and he folds in half over the toilet, spitting out everything. The bile burns his throat as he throws up the coffee still left in his stomach. 

Tears stain his cheeks and his hands tremble violently as he catches his breath. He sniffles and wipes his nose with the back of his hand, weakly pulling himself up. A groan leaves his lips as he cleans his face and washes his mouth out. 

He stumbles into the main room, collapsing on his bed. This fast is so hard..but he needs to lose 5 more pounds to be at his goal weight. He pulls his phone from his pocket and clicks the internet. Out of habit, he goes into incognito before searching up his favorite pro-ana site. He logs in, seeing hoards of comments, half telling him to kill himself and half supporting his weight loss. The usual. He deletes the negative comments before scrolling through the fasting tab. 

He knows he shouldn't be on this site anymore. It just makes him worse and the trolls are starting to irritate him. But he always comes back. He's made so many friends that he can't just leave. 

His heart pounds against his chest, causing his vision to blur. He needs to eat something and keep it down if he doesn't want to be hospitalized again. 

A rice cake with kimchi sounds good. He sets up his small dinner, filling up his water bottle and sitting at the desk. The monitor blinks alive and he pulls up YouTube to distract himself enough to eat. 

After 15 minutes of pushing off eating, he finally forces himself to take a bite. He takes a deep breath, repeating to himself not to throw it up. The kimchi will burn. You will pass out. Your heart already started fluttering. As much as he wants to throw the food away, he finishes it, feeling guilty already. 

Before he goes to bed, he updates his food log. 50 calories. At least he kept it under 100 this time. 

His body pleads for him to sleep, pushing off unpacking for another day. He rests his head on the pillow and covers himself, shaking from the cold. The heat blasts but he can’t stop shivering. This is absolute hell. 

The next morning, he wakes up, having finally slept through the night. Though his hands still tremble, he pushes out of bed to take his walk. 

This time, he doesn’t take his headphones. Or his phone. But he gets out a blank check from his wallet. His hands tremble as he writes the amount of money left in his bank account. 

The check is stuffed inside an envelope along with a note before he leaves. He stops at his neighbor's apartment. A rush to his head forces him to stumble. He smiles grimly and slips the envelope under the door, leaving before the boy can stop him. 

He perches himself on the railing in the exact same spot, but this time, the water looks even clearer today. It’s calm and practically begging for him to jump in. A shadow of depression takes over his body and he tightly grips the iron bar underneath him. The world around him warps and he leans forward, staring at the distance between him and the river. 

He turns and sees the same boy as always, walking the same route, a busted lip. The boy pauses as they make eye contact, Jae giving him a soft smile. He watches as the boy twitches and continues on his way, grabbing at his hair. Once again, the boy stops. He stands beside Jae, staring, giving a look that says he wishes to be sitting there with him. 

“I’m sorry.” Jae whispers. 

Before the boy can react, Jae lets go and kicks his body forward. Falling towards the water. He closes his eyes before the impact, water rushing into his lungs as the hit knocks him unconscious.


	2. Anger

“I told you, already.” Sungjin growls at his coworker. “It’s just a fucking bruise. Nothing to worry about.” 

He wishes he could scream the reality to the heavens. But it wouldn’t do him any good. It’ll probably just make things worse. 

At the end of his shift, he clocks out, rushing through the exit like he does every morning. He can’t be late today. He doesn’t want to get in trouble. 

He’s so fucking worried that his coworkers can see through his lies. Every day he comes in with a new mark on his body and they always question him. If he told them the truth, he knows they’ll try to help. But he has it under control. There’s nothing they can really do anyway. 

The park seems particularly busy today. More people gawking at the river than normal. But that same boy still sits, perched on the railing. Sungjin saw the scars on his arms the first time and always wanted to ask about it. But just like he hates his coworkers asking obvious questions, he assumes this stranger will brush him off. 

Nevertheless, he always wishes he could help him. But if he doesn’t get home in 10 minutes..

He stares at the boy, begging through his eyes. To either escape this hell or to help him escape. The boy always looks so heartbroken. So skinny. Deep in thought. 

Today, Sungjin gets bold enough to hand the boy a paper with his number on it. But doing this makes him late coming home. He already dreads opening the door, wondering if this is the day he finally runs away. The day he starts living a new, healthy life. 

But he always finds himself unlocking the door and walking in. He doesn’t even take his jacket off before the flat is filled with screams. His head spins, hearing the same script from his partner’s mouth. He makes the same promises to be better. He receives the same hit. 

It's nothing he can't handle. 

He drags his feet to the bedroom, flopping into his pillow. Letting his tears fall safely. But only safe for a moment. Soon, the door will open and he has to pretend to be asleep to get out of the argument his partner will want to continue otherwise. Tomorrow will be better. 

Though his partner seemed to wake up in a good mood, Sungjin wonders how long it will last. So far, so good...They even praised him for the breakfast he made. They had their first intimate moment in nearly 3 months. 

Maybe things are better...maybe his partner realized what they were doing and is being nice to make up for it. Maybe Sungjin wasn't being abused in the first place and he's just going insane over nothing? 

Of course that didn't last. Sungjin had rolled his eyes in instinct when his partner said something rude. As punishment, he received a hard hit to the head. Hard enough to leave a welt. Nothing his hat won't cover…

He breathes a sigh of relief as he begins his walk to work. This is the only time he has to himself and it's always so peaceful. No one yelling at him–boss nor partner. No one telling him how worthless he is. 

The day goes by exactly the same as always. His head hits his pillow but this time he doesn't cry. He thinks about that boy who always sits at the river. That boy could be his escape. He can approach him tomorrow and finally be free…

He wakes up the next morning, feeling anxious, yet relaxed. This is the day he will free himself from this hell. No more bruises, no more–

His body jumps as an object swings at his face, splitting his lip open. He yells and cries out, blindly pushing himself from the bed. 

_"You're still friends with that drug addict?"_ The voice echos from how loud his partner screams. 

"I–haven't talked to him in a month!" Sungjin curls into himself, bracing for the hit of his phone as it's launched at his body. 

_"He's dead."_

Sungjin’s chest tightens. No..that can't be true…He scrambles to pick his phone up, searching for the news that his best friend is gone. Sure enough, there's the text from the boy's mother. 

His vision darkens and in this moment, Sungjin wishes he were dead too. No–not too, instead. 

Before he's late for work, Sungjin weakly changes into his uniform. He doesn't want to work. He won't be a good employee today..

And that proves correct, hearing the news that he has received his final strike. He can't tell his partner that he just got fired. 

Instead, he pleads with his manager to let him finish his shift. Even if he does it off the clock. He can't go home now. For the first time in the 4 years working at this store, Sungjin cries. He doesn't care about being fired but he can't go home..

"They'll kill me if I leave now.." he manages to croak out. 

His face redden and he sobs loudly, being told to leave the property or be arrested. So instead of going home or going to jail, Sungjin sits in a small Cafe. This was always where he and Younghyun would go on weekends to talk about their days. 

God..he's going to miss him..

The only reason Sungjin stopped talking to him was because he wasn't allowed to associate himself with someone his partner didn't approve of. Younghyun was always so understanding and would make sure Sungjin wasn't hurt more. The boy promised to get him out of his situation once he found a decent job..

The hours begin to pass faster than Sungjin anticipated. He stands and throws his coffee away before beginning his journey back home. Maybe he can just..pretend to work until he finds a new job. That way he won't have to deal with staying home with his partner. His bills are caught up so maybe they won't notice the missing income. 

Sungjin enters the park, his hands deep in his pockets. He feels an odd flip in his chest once he sees that boy perched on the railing. But this time, he doesn't look peaceful, he looks scared and perhaps a little hurt. 

The boy turns and makes eye contact, like he does every time he hears Sungjin’s footsteps scraping along the concrete. Sungjin stops in his tracks. He notices his blotchy complexion, his reddened eyes, and his soft–far too calm smile. 

The two stare for what feels like minutes before Sungjin walks forward. He tugs at his bangs and whimpers. He wants to help so badly. But he's already going to be home late. 

_No. Help him._

He stops once more, stepping over to the boy. His eyes never leave that calm smile, sending a shiver down Sungjin’s spine. 

The boy’s smile softens and for a split second, Sungjin can see a twitch in his expression. 

"I'm sorry." 

Before Sungjin can react, the boy kicks off the railing, soaring into the water. Sungjin screams out. He wants to puke. The boy finally jumped. But why couldn't he have done it alone..Why did Sungjin now have to suffer with this memory? 

_Why didn't I jump with him?_

Sungjin feels his body warm with anger, realizing his partner will show no sympathy–no remorse. No–if that boy can escape this hell, so can Sungjjn. He's done getting beaten, yelled at, cheated on. He's done having all of that blamed on him. 

His grip finally releases from the railing, Sungjin mindlessly wiping the rust onto his pants. He walks away. It's time to go home. 

It's time to get his home back. 

He walks into the flat and is greeted by the same screams. But this time, Sungjin just stares. He twitches. 

The second his partner touches him, he grabs their shoulders, shoving them hard against the wall. His body trembles violently but the anger takes complete control. 

He yells, backing away as he feels their head collide with his nose. Blood drips down, covering his lips in red. He blinks and his fist collides with their cheek. 

Sungjin backs away. He..just hit back for the first time. 

_Oh god–am I the abusive one?_

He begins to walk to the bedroom but is surprised by a hard hit to the back of the head. His knees collapse to the floor and he yells in pain. 

Then another hit. 

His vision darkens and he blindly grabs for this partner’s throat. He just wanted peace. He wanted to be happy. 

Another hit and everything goes black. His body twitches and his hand slips to his side. With his last conscious breath, he smiles. 

_Maybe this is peace…_


	3. Bargaining

“I get paid Friday.” Younghyun sniffles. "Can I pay you then?" 

"This is your last advance, hyun." A younger boy rolls his eyes, holding a small bag out. “Right?”

Younghyun grabs the bag and smiles, walking to the door. "Promise." 

He runs into his car and drives off. His roommate comes home from work in two hours so he doesn’t have time to use without them finding out. Wonpil will be pissed if he finds out Younghyun bought something again. But he couldn’t handle the withdrawals and the sickness. 

The two got into a fight last week after Wonpil bailed him out of jail. Younghyun had been caught after being pulled over for speeding and the officer noticed him shoving the bag into his pocket. Though Wonpil wasn’t actually angry, he made Younghyun promise he’d stay clean. That promise didn’t last long. 

Younghyun sits on the couch, getting his phone out. He sighs, seeing no new messages from his friend. They've had a tough time and his partner controls everything he does. Younghyun is secretly storing cash in a savings account to give to Sungjin so the boy can escape. 

He promises to never spend that money unless it's an emergency. And he's kept that promise..

He throws his head back and stares at the ceiling. Nothing is fun anymore. He wishes he could go out and fuck with the fake skater boys in the park. 

Like that one that always sits on the railing of the bridge. 

Younghyun laughs to himself. Maybe one day he'll scare the boy by pretending to push him. 

His laughs fill with guilt, remembering the pale lines on that boy's wrists. They seem so young to be going through such a hard time. If goes to the park again and sees him, Younghyun will scoop him and protect him from the evil in this world. Wonpil surely wouldn't oppose to that. 

He jumps out of his thoughts and stares at the front door as Wonpil comes home. His roommate yawns, his scrubs wrinkled like always. 

"Kill me." Wonpil flops beside him, Younghyun is careful to keep the bag in his pocket hidden. 

"Nah, I can't live without you." Younghyun pats the younger boy on his head. 

But he has to live without him. Because it doesn't take long for life to decide Wonpil didn't deserve to heal the world. In a matter of seconds, Younghyun lost his best friend. It was only an accident. But an accident that Younghyun desperately wishes he could have been in instead. He begged to have one more day with him. But no prayers were answered. 

But Younghyun is alone. Now he has no one to stop him from using. He wishes he could call Sungjin, tell him to escape now. But there isn't enough money in his savings to buffer for a second person. Wonpil paid the majority of the bills. 

Younghyun can pay rent. He doesn't need water anyway..or internet. Soon the electric company will start calling, demanding their money. But Younghyun will always find a way to bargain with them. He will lie and tell them his grandfather is sick and needs the electricity to stay on for him to live. 

It always works. They never double check. 

He wonders if he should stop with the drugs. Get into a clinic and detox. But it's the only thing that clears his mind. Distracts him from this cruel world. 

Everyday passes by with a blur. Younghyun’s body slims and his head clouds. It's getting to the point where he wonders if he should pray for forgiveness. 

_Ha..and have God laugh in my face?_

Younghyun was able to pay off all but one of his advances to his dealer. But at the expense of dipping into his savings. At the expense of forcing his best friend to live with his abuse a little longer. The guilt weighs heavily but it's okay. He can replace it. He can work overtime. Anything to get himself and Sungjin back on their feet. Anything to fill the hole left in his heart.

Today is a new day. He will tell his dealer that he can't pay his last advance. He needs to pay rent. It's more important. 

Once his day of work is over, he hops on his car. He doesn't immediately leave the parking lot. Maybe he should just pack up and leave. Live in his car until he can get the money saved back up. Yeah, that will work perfectly. 

No–he needs to own up to his mistakes. 

He drives. All his thoughts mixing together. How is he going to get out of this? He doesn't have a plan. He's going to get himself killed. He shouldn't have gotten himself in this mess in the first place. Wonpil was right. 

Within minutes, he is pulling up to a small, worn down house. He doesn't want to do this. He'd much rather lightning strike him dead. But he put himself into this mess. He promised to get himself out. 

Promised? To who? Himself? He couldn’t even keep his promises for the two people he cared about the most.

_Fuck it.._

He pushes out of the car, his stomach churning in pain. In a blink, he's standing at the door. His hands tremble as he knocks. Admittedly, his knock is weaker than normal, almost hoping the boy inside doesn't hear. So he can leave and never come back again. 

But the door opens. Younghyun is greeted by a tired looking boy. They never seem to sleep. Most likely from preferring uppers to Younghyun’s downers. 

"What's up?" The boy yawns, stepping to the side and letting Younghyun in. 

Younghyun’s heart pounds against his chest. "I need..something.." 

_No that's not what you're here for.._

"I'll–give you the money today. It's in my savings, I swear." He pauses. "No–no. I'm not buying anything from you. I'm not paying that last advance." His cheeks heat. "You can fucking deal with the loss." 

He stumbles back as the boy grabs for his shirt. "You're seriously going to fuck me over, like that? I need to pay for my child's school supplies." 

"Then I'll buy them for her. I'm done with this shit." 

The boy pushes Younghyun to the ground. It's not hard to do since he's gotten so weak. Younghyun puts his hands up in defense, receiving a hard kick to the side. 

"You're not fucking leaving until I get my money." The boy straddles Younghyun, pushing his face to the side. "You've had it this whole time!" 

"No–I swear–I couldn't spend that money!" Younghyun closes his eyes, feeling the boy's hand wrap around his throat. 

His head tightens. He claws wildly at the boy's arm, desperate for air. 

_Please..god..help me.._

He manages to kick the boy off and crawl to the front door. He just needs to make it out. Get to the car and he will escape this nightmare. The world seems to darken and his ears ring after a loud shot fills the air. 

Then the pain hits. 

He cries and flattens back onto the ground. Bile–or possibly blood, creeps up his throat. 

All he wanted was to quit..he didn't want to live this hell anymore. He wanted a new life.

And now his blood pools around him. His body cools from shock. He is going to die..because he wanted to live again. Now the world is warping around him and he wishes someone would help him. He wishes his murderer would see what they did wrong. Younghyun would do anything to have his life back. 

But it’s too late. He ruined his life. He deserves to be bleeding on the floor. But he desperately wishes he could go back in time. To before Wonpil left him, before he started using..Before he ruined his damn life. 

“Please..” His breaths become shorter and he pleads..begs for forgiveness…

Begs to not die..

_Save me.._

But with another shot, the faint sirens turn to static and Younghyun’s prayers are denied. 


	4. Denial

“Promise me, you’ll stay clean this time.” Wonpil holds his roommate's hand as they avoid eye contact. 

He smiles as they nod. Since they've been friends, Wonpil has been the only person to keep Younghyun clean. Everyone else has left but Wonpil refuses to give up on him. Though, he knows of Younghyun’s friend Sungjin–how he can't help. 

Wonpil is all for helping that boy get out of his situation but he can’t afford to move into a new house. He can’t afford to support another person. But he will soon. He and Younghyun have nearly saved enough for the house they want. 

That way, Younghyun and Sungjin will be comfortable and Wonpil will spend less time traveling for work. He can finally help in the way he truly wants. But he needs at least another month. 

Every morning, when Wonpil goes to work, he worries that Younghyun is lying about staying clean. But he hasn't found any more needles hidden in the trash, lately. Of course Younghyun’s clean. The boy may have lied before but Wonpil believes him this time. 

No more bailing the boy from jail. No more finding the boy passed out on the floor. No more narcan. 

Wonpil will do everything he can to make sure the people in his life are happy. 

Like every morning, Wonpil leaves for work. Today, he meets his new patient. He is a nurse that works with cancer patients before they pass away. It's his job to feed them, bathe them, and give them their medicine. 

He wouldn't change it for the world. Even if some patients treat him poorly. He knows he's helping them in their last moments. And if they are comfortable, Wonpil is happy.

But today starts his work with the youngest patient he's had. They are only a year younger than him. And from what he's heard, is sweet and understanding. 

Wonpil walks into the apartment building his patient lives in. He assists a tall, skinny boy who struggles to press his floor in the elevator. They seem to just be moving in. Funny, he's going to the same floor. 

Though the boy looks sickly, he knows this can't be his patent. He's far too tall compared to the stats he was given in his chart. 

"You a nurse?" The boy asks, shifting the box in his arms to be more comfortable to hold. 

"Ah–yes! I'm hospice actually." Wonpil smiles over. 

The boy notices that Wonpil didn't select a different floor number. "So, someone's dying on my floor? I wonder who.." 

“Are you moving in?” 

The boy nods. “Mm. I moved in earlier this week.” 

With that, the boy walks from the elevator. Wonpil follows, noticing him stop at the apartment next to the one he needs to enter. They share one last glance, the boy’s expression dulling at the realization his next door neighbor is dying. 

" _Morbid.._ "

Wonpil hears him whisper before disappearing into his apartment. Okay..now to meet your patient. He gives a knock on the metal door. 

It's opened and Wonpil is greeted by the young boy. The boy lets him inside. Wonpil notices his pale face. It’s much paler than that other boy’s. He’s used to the sickly appearance. But this boy doesn’t deserve to go through this pain. 

“There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry.” The boy offers politely. “I’m getting my NG tube tomorrow and I don’t want anything to go to waste.” 

Wonpil nods, setting his bag on the ground. “Do you need help with anything?” 

How could this world take someone away so early? It’s not fair. If Wonpil had it his way, everyone would live forever. Even the criminals. Everyone deserves a second chance. 

“I just need to clean up a bit. Take my..ah fuck..I forgot to get my medicine.” 

Wonpil leads the boy to the couch, sitting him down carefully. “Don’t worry. I’ll pick it up for you.” 

“I appreciate it.” He lowers his head. “If I had it my way, I wouldn’t take them. But I’m not going to disobey my doctor’s orders.” 

Today went well. Wonpil and the boy mostly spent the day talking about life. He learned so much, he practically lived his life beside the boy. It’s truly a shame. This might be the hardest death he will deal with. He wonders why the boy decided to not receive treatment. He has so much to live for. A great, loving family. 

Wonpil opened up to him about his own life. His struggles with keeping Younghyun clean. The boy listened well. If he wasn’t..going to die, Wonpil believes the two would be great friends. 

The next few days go the same. Wonpil getting closer with his patient. Helping him when he gets sick from his medication. Helping him make his bed. The boy is getting weaker and weaker. And instead of being sad, the boy accepts his fate. It breaks Wonpil’s heart. He still hopes that there is some way the boy can be saved. 

The boy is so accepting of his mortality, it nearly makes Wonpil sick. Sure, he’s happy his patient is happy. But it’s not right. 

Wonpil drives home, stuck in thought. He doesn’t want to think about how he saw Younghyun leave his dealer’s house when he got lunch. There’s no way it was Younghyun. It must have been someone similar. 

Wonpil gasps and slams on his brakes as two children run into the road. He closes his eyes, terrified that he is going to hit them. But the car stops roughly, causing the seatbelt to throw Wonpil’s body back into the seat. 

He quickly gets out, rushing to the two crying children. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around them. 

“It’s okay. Don’t cry.” Wonpil soothes them. “You’re safe.” He pulls away and dries their faces as best as he can. “You shouldn’t play near the street. You’re very lucky I was able to stop. You don’t want to get hurt.” 

The two nod. Wonpil looks around to see if he can find any adult or guardian. 

“Get home before the traffic gets worse, okay?” 

He ruffles their hair before standing. The two begin their journey, but crossing the street once more. Wonpil yells out to them, seeing a car speeding coming straight for them. He rushes over, pulling them back to the safety of his stopped car. 

His footing slips and he crashes to the ground. The asphalt digs into this palm and he closes his eyes. They’ll stop. He won’t get hit. These kids won’t be traumatized. Or at least, not as badly. He will have a hell of a story to tell Younghyun. 

But the impact happens. Tires squeal and screams fill the air. Wonpil feels himself fly forward, then crash back onto the asphalt. For a moment, he wonders if he is actually going to die. 

No..Wonpil will be fine. It hurts to breathe and he can’t see anything. But he’ll be fine. He can’t die like this. Though, if he did, at least it was by helping people. His only true wish in life. 

He can’t die. He needs to help Younghyun. But his body cools and he feels blood pool around his head. He can’t die. There are children here. Are they even still here? He doesn’t hear their crying anymore. He only hears panicked yells and desperate calls for help. 

He smiles, hearing sirens getting closer and closer. He can’t die. He won’t die. He just needs to hold on until the ambulance gets here. 

But he can’t stay alive any longer..He can’t..die..


	5. Acceptance

“I guess, it can’t get any worse than this..” Dowoon twitches a smile, staring at his doctor. "I'll go ahead and call my family." 

He hops from the bed and grabs all his things before quietly leaving the hospital. It's okay. This life wasn't that great anyway. He can't change the diagnosis so there's no point crying about it. He's going to die. 

There is still more waiting to see how long he actually has to live. But at least he was given some clarity on why he's been so sick for years. 

He makes it to the elevator of his apartment building and goes upstairs. That boy that moved in on Monday has just gotten home from his walk he takes every morning. It's nice to see someone else enjoys the fresh air. 

His body cracks as he sits on the couch. Tomorrow he has another appointment to discuss his nutrition and inability to eat. He hasn't been able to keep food down for a week now, so they'll probably give him an NG tube. Just part of the process.

_Now for the dreaded phone call…_

The 3 hour long phone call, filled with tears and apologizes. Dowoon insisting it's okay. Insisting to stay here and not move back home. To live the rest of his life out happily. 

He doesn’t understand why everyone is so upset. Everyone dies..He’s just dying early. He understands the stress of paying for his funeral. His family doesn’t make a lot of money. Dowoon suggested asking for donations. He’s not above the idea of asking strangers for money. What’s the worst that could happen? They say no? 

The call left him exhausted so he goes to bed early. He can hear his neighbor through the wall but it doesn’t bother him. In the morning, he can make flyers for his donations and pass them out after he comes home from the doctors. 

He scrolls on his phone for about an hour before falling asleep. His dreams are particularly vivid, showing his secret fear of his mortality. 

The morning comes all too quickly. Dowoon is greeted by an aching back and swollen lymph nodes, making his throat sore. He crawls out of bed and gets ready for his appointment. Today will be so long. His doctor is making him have a hospice nurse since he is refusing treatment. 

He feels bad making someone watch him waste away. But it’s their job, they’re probably used to it. 

He shakes the thoughts and makes his way to his appointment. He doesn’t get the NG tube just yet. They will put it in tomorrow if he isn’t able to keep his food down. Oh, well. He will throw it up but he’s fine with waiting. 

The walk home is refreshing. Dowoon can clear his mind. See all the familiar faces on his normal route. First, the boy at the convenience store. He must be abused with all the bruises on his face. He has such a nice smile. 

Next, is the boy at the pharmacy. He seems so laid back. But Dowoon always notices the dark veins along his arms. A shame to see such a bright young man be swayed by drugs. But Dowoon skips the pharmacy today. 

Then, his neighbor. He always sees him perched on the railing of the bridge. He worries he’s going to jump. That or the wind will blow him off with how skinny he is. 

Seeing these familiar faces every day makes Dowoon completely okay with not having real friends. Sure it’d be nice to talk to someone, but he’s fine with being alone, too. 

He makes it home, his body admittedly screaming for him to relax. This is going to be a long day. But he isn’t going to let his tiredness affect how he treats his nurse. He shouldn’t have a nurse yet. 

Sure he only has maybe 3 weeks left to live. But he’s still fine. He can walk..Sure, not for long. He..well he can’t eat anymore.. 

_Aish..Maybe it’s time to accept that you aren’t okay._

He jumps from the couch and rushes to the door, hearing a loud knock. A boy that doesn’t look much older than him smiles over. Based on the scrubs at the bag of medical equipment, this must be his nurse. 

He lets him in, offering the food in his fridge so it doesn’t go to waste. How can a person be around death all the time at such a young age. It must be stressful. 

Dowoon sits back down, groaning as he remembers he forgot to pick up his prescription. His nurse generously offers to get it for him, making sure he’s comfortable before promptly leaving. 

_How nice.._

Once Dowoon takes his medicine, he feels less nauseous. He still won’t be able to eat anything. But he can at least drink water. He has enough energy to talk to his nurse, the boy seems so nice and helpful. He knows he can never be like that in the future. It’s okay. At least someone is helping others. 

Once the nurse leaves for the day, Dowoon passes out. He doesn’t even go to his room, opting to stay on the couch. His back won’t be happy with him but oh well. 

The next morning he wakes up, gets his NG tube and walks home. Taking the normal stops. Only, this time he stops at a print store to make his flyers. Even if no one donates, he is fine with a cheap cremation. Nothing wrong with that. His family can do what they want with his ashes. He won’t have to worry about it, anyway. 

Before leaving, he sticks a flyer to the bulletin board by the door. Waving to the shop owner. 

He makes it to the elevator, happy there is one in the first place. Every day it seems like more and more of a chore to move around. He doesn’t want to stop his walks, but he knows he’ll have to. Oh well. Part of the process..

His hands tremble as he lightly knocks on the door of his neighbor. They answer, looking a bit surprised by having a visitor. Dowoon hands him a flyer and explains why he is asking a stranger for money. The boy seems put off by the gesture but Dowoon assures it’s okay. 

And it is. But what he doesn’t like are the pale scars lining the boy’s arm. He smiles but feels it twitch. 

“If you ever need someone to talk to..” 

But he never sees the boy again. After a few days, there is a crew cleaning out his apartment. Did he move? Or did he actually jump off the bridge? Such a shame but if the boy is happier in the afterlife, who is Dowoon to say it’s truly tragic? 

Dowoon doesn’t have time to worry any more about his neighbor. He barely has strength to keep himself standing. But 3 days ago, the boy had slipped an envelope under Dowoon’s door. It contained a note and a check for 3million won. 

_‘Don’t worry about losing strength. We all do in the end. You seem like a nice person so I want to give you everything I have to help. You deserve a special set of angel wings, I’m sure of it. I hope you live the rest of your life well and in happiness. - Jae’_

His nurse stopped seeing him once he started to truly deteriorate. He heard there was an accident but didn’t want to pry. 

He can barely get himself to take a proper breath. He accepts he made a mistake in not taking the offer for a new nurse. The pain is getting worse and he can’t get out of bed. He barely knows where he is anymore. 

He knows it’s time. He accepts that it’s his time. With the last of his strength, he sends his family his final goodbye. But before he can hit send, the phone slips from his hand and his eyes flutter shut. His body twitches before he is greeted with darkness. This..is the end. 


End file.
